


Mosaic

by 1985Wheeljack



Series: Mosaic [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Friends to Lovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1985Wheeljack/pseuds/1985Wheeljack
Summary: Sunstreaker is still having trouble coming to terms with the Headmaster fiasco and moving on with his life. But when comfort comes from an unexpected source, his chances might end up being better than he expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This originally started as a story literal YEARS ago on ff.net, but has spiralled out of control into its own au. I originally posted the first few bits there under a different title and will probably cross-post as I push the story along. The first few chapters have been HEAVILY edited since their ffnet day (I was still in HIGH SCHOOL, Y'ALL, it was TERRIBLE). I plan to eventually turn it into a series, with drawings of my interpretations of the characters eventually. Updates will be slow but they will happen.

Another nightmare, another night of pacing the Ark to avoid going back into recharge.

It had been four months, four fragging months, and he was still having nightmares about the headmaster incident.

It really shouldn't bother him this much, he was a gladiator, a front-liner, a soldier for pits sake!

But he just couldn't forget.

It wasn't for lack of trying though. A life of slavery and hardship had taught him more than one coping method over the vorns. He had thought that he’d been through everything, could handle everything, been ready for anything. But Not This.

Never This.

He’d gone the usual routes he took; he trained, he cleaned his weapons, he’d painted. But still the nightmares would not reside. He could still see the laboratory in his dreams, hear the humans talking above him like he was just a new bug to study, nothing more than a new shiny thing for them to take apart, hear the buzz of the saw blades, feel them as the cut into his neck and severed his head, he remembered the all-encompassing numbness he felt as his head was suspended from wires and cables (though thankfully they hadn't had time to connect him with a human before the Autobots had found him). But the worst part had been when the bond he shared with Sideswipe - his brother, the other half of his half-spark, his twin - had gone silent, leaving them both truly alone for the first time in their existence, and it hadn’t gotten much better since his rescue and their subsequent reunion. The Silence - Ratchet explained it as a side effect of the trauma, said that it would heal with time. That didn’t make it any better in the now - was the cause of most - and the worst - of the nightmares.

When the nightmares got to that point, he rarely went back to sleep. This was unfortunately one of those nights. Eventually wandering into the rec room, he grabbed a cube from the dispenser and made his way to a table tucked away in the farthest corner of the rec room and sat down to enjoy his cube. Taking a long drought from the cube, he checked his internal chronometer and sighed in agitation.

00:37.

Great. Just dandy.

Thankfully he didn't have a shift to report for thanks to a certain monochrome Praxian that absolutely refused to clear him for duty. He could understand not letting him back the first month, even the second month was still within the range of being understandable, but four? It was a waste of his abilities and a waste of everyone else's time. If they’d just let him back in to the field and let him do his job . . .

The sound of the rec room door sliding open made him stop his mental rant before it started as he looked to see who had entered.

Well, speak of the Unmaker . . .

There stood Prowl, looking at him with that uncomfortably intense gaze that he still wasn't sure how to read. In the past few months, the only other bot who had stalked around the corridors of the Ark at such unearthly hours other than himself was Prowl. He was honestly starting to wonder if Prowl recharged in the first place.

After staring at him a few more seconds, Prowl silently walked over to the dispenser, got a cube for himself, and walked over to Sunstreaker's table and sat down next to him. Sunstreaker didn't acknowledge him, suddenly finding the contents of his energon cube to be the single most fascinating thing in the room.

"You had another nightmare."

It wasn't even a question. Never had been. Prowl just somehow knew. He always knew.

"Y'know I could've just woken up and decided to get a late-night snack."

"But you didn't."

Prowl took a slow drink from his own cube, never taking his optics off of the vain front-liner.

Sunstreaker wasn't even sure when it had started, but whenever Sunstreaker ended up wandering the halls in the middle of the night, Prowl would always find him and stay with him. He wouldn't say much, just stay with him for the rest of the night until Sunstreaker finally went back to his quarters. Most nights, at least. Some nights there'd be odd bits of conversation.

"Your brother is worried about you."

Ah. So it was going to be one of those nights.

"Is he now? I hardly noticed." He responded with the usual sarcasm he reserved for these nights. He knew Sideswipe was worried, he was his twin for Primus' sake. Thankfully, he hadn’t had to block his nightmares from reaching through the bond that all split-sparks shared. The only ‘perk’ of The Silence.

"Have you tried talking to him about what happened?"

Well Sideswipe had made an effort to, at least. Pit, everybot had tried, even Spike and his little gang(and wow had that been painfully awkward for all involved), but whenever someone had tried to talk about it, or even bring it up for that matter, he just couldn't . . . . he can't . . . . .

He again found interest in his half-empty cube as he avoided the steady gaze of Prime's SIC. He didn't want to deal with this, he couldn't deal with this. He couldn't deal with the nightmares, the memories. He couldn't deal with the whispers, the rumors, the pitying looks, the feeling of being utterly useless. He couldn't deal with everyone treating him like glass, couldn't deal with the fact that he felt like glass, he just couldn't-

"The humans that hurt you have been sentenced to life, even execution for some. They can't hurt you anymore."

Sunstreaker's head shot up, fury written plainly on his faceplate. How dare the fragger just assume-! 

"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think that I know that I'm being foolish, that I should let it go? Move on with my life? Don't you think I want to? Don't you think that I'm tired of the nightmares, of not being able to face my own problems? Don't you think-

"Think that you're hurting? That you don't know how to deal with what was done to you? That you feel ashamed and violated even though it was no fault of your own and you shouldn't feel that way at all? That you'd be pathetic for asking for someone to help or listen even though you wouldn't be? That you feel like you're broken and feel like less of a Cybertronian even though you're worth just as much now as you were before they captured you?"

Sunstreaker gaped, not sure what to say. If he wasn’t being sent into battle what use was he to the tactician? Yeah, everyone had tried to console him in some way, but for someone to tell him all that he was worth something, and to hear it from Prowl of all mechs . . .

"You are not just a machine to send out into battle, Sunstreaker. You matter just as much as the others, if not more." Not knowing what to say to that, Sunstreaker stayed silent. They sat like that until the first shift mechs started wandering in. They left, walking back to the area of the ship that housed the crew's living quarters. Reaching the quarters that he shared with his twin, Sunstreaker made to enter until a hand gently touched his wrist.

"If you wish to talk at any given time, my door and quarters are open."

Sunstreaker nodded, and Prowl released his wrist and walked to his own quarters. When the regal door wings that Prime's SIC was known for were finally out of visual range, he entered his quarters and laid down on his berth.

Upon reflection of the nights events, he might just take that offer.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunstreaker seeks out help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished editing the old chapter two, can't be sure if I'll get the old chapter three edited by the end of the week but I'll try.

    He raised his servo to the door, hesitated, then dropped it back down to his side only to repeat the cycle over again. Growling at himself in frustration, Sunstreaker brought his servo up to the door only to drop it once again. Slag it, he was one of the greatest gladiators of Kaon, one of the most viscous soldiers in the Autobot army, so why in the pit couldn't he work up the nerve to knock on a stupid door?!   
  
Well, he already knew the answer.   
  
Pride. Whatever was left of it, a least.   
  
It had been two days since Prowl's offer of an open door and audio receptor, and he still couldn't bring himself to swallow his pride and take the final step and actually ask for help. He had been taught early on that showing reliance on another was a sign of weakness, a poor quality to display in the gladiatorial pits. And if there was something that Sunstreaker was not, it was weak.   
  
But, wasn't he already weak for succumbing to something as trivial as nightmares?   
  
His servo dropped down to his side completely as the bitter taste of anger and defeat made itself known. Had he truly stooped this low? To crawling to his SIC for comfort from a nightmare like a sparkling would to its carrier? Had he truly become this pathetic?   
  
"Do you wish to talk now?"   
  
He jumped at the sudden voice and realization that someone had opened the door and put there servo on his shoulder. He looked down to see familiar arctic blue optics looking at him with that same quiet intensity they always seemed to hold. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before looking away in shame. "You . . . I just . . . I can't . . ." Why was he so _weak_?!   
  
The monochrome Praxian studied the front-liner for a moment before moving to the side and gestured to the open door behind him.   
  
"Do you wish to move away from the possibility of prying optics?"   
  
Sunstreaker nodded hesitantly before slowly making his way into the office and occupying a chair in the corner. Prowl followed him in and locked the door behind him. Pulling the chair out from behind his desk, the SIC pulled it over to the front-liner and sat a few feet away, quietly waiting for the more volatile twin to speak. Sunstreaker stared at the Praxian for a few moments before finally speaking.   
  
"Why are you doing this, anyway? Neither of us are exactly socialites."   
  
"Can I not just be concerned for the well-being of those under my command?"   
  
Reasonable. Weird, considering the source, but still reasonable. Sunstreaker sighed, burying his faceplates in his servos.   
  
"Why can't I get over this?"   
  
"This isn't something one just 'gets's over', Sunstreaker. You need time to heal."   
  
The Kaonite stood and started pacing in front of the strategist.   
  
"I've been through worse. No one leaves the pits of Kaon as a whole mech, Ol' bucket head's more than enough proof for that."   
  
Prowl tilted his head slightly, regarding the soldier pacing his office.   
  
"And Sideswipe was with you in Kaon?"   
  
Sunstreaker looked back at his superior officer, not entirely sure why he would ask such a question.   
  
"Yeah, he was there. We're twins, Prowl. Split-spark twins. One of the worst omens on Cybertron. We had to stay together, no one else wanted us."   
  
Leaning against the far wall, Sunstreaker continued.   
  
"We've literally been together our entire lives. Sparked together, abandoned together, fought as gladiators together, and got out of the pits together. It's always been the two of us."   
  
" Up until the patrol that ended in the Headmaster fiasco?"   
  
Sunstreaker winced, and resumed his pacing.   
  
"Yeah. Up until that."   
  
"The first time you've been seriously hurt and be completely alone."   
  
‘ _ And Silent. _ ’ Sunstreaker added in his mind, ‘ _ but no one non-medical needs to know about that. _ ’ Sunstreaker stopped his pacing and leaned over into Prowl's faceplates , his own warped with fury.   
  
" Are you implying that I can't handle things on my own? That I need someone to hold my hand?!"   
  
Prowl, still infuriatingly calm, simply shook his head.   
  
"No. You are more than capable of handling life on your own. But in this one instance, you were alone. Tortured in a way that no one can comprehend because it's never happened before. Hurt so badly that you don't know how to move on and the one person that has stood by you and understood you because the had experienced the same hardships can't do it now because he hasn't experienced it."   
  
Well.   
  
That hurt more than it probably should have.   
  
Sunstreaker went back to the corner and sat down in the chair, refusing to look Prowl in the optics.   
  
"Have you tried to talk to Sideswipe about it?"   
  
Sunstreaker tensed, still refusing to meet his superior's optics.   
  
"How do you even bring something like that up, Prowl? I mean, Sides has been trying- don't think he's not, 'cause he is- but how do you even bring up something like this? Let alone actually talk about it?"   
  
"Does he know about the nightmares?"   
  
Sunstreaker shifted in his seat, feeling a little uncomfortable.   
  
"No, not exactly. He's starting to suspect, though."   
  
"Try talking about the nightmares with him"   
  
Sunstreaker finally looked at the tactician, confused.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Talk to him about the nightmares. Tell him what they're about, then work back to the source. Do you think you could handle that?"   
  
Sunstreaker looked down at his hands, thinking over the suggestion.   
  
"That . . . . . might be doable."   
  
" Then try, and see if it works."   
  
Sunstreaker stood, Prowl following suit.   
  
"Now, I do believe that you are in need of a good recharge. If you are going to talk to your brother tomorrow, you'll need to be semi-aware of what's going on around you."   
  
Sunstreaker chuckled, then walked towards the door. As he opened the door he stopped, as if struck by a sudden realization.   
  
"Prowl?"   
  
"Yes, Sunstreaker?"   
  
"What in the pit are you doing in your office at three in the morning?"   
  
Giving the front-liner a deadpan look, he shooed him out of his office and into the hallway.   
  
"Go to bed, Sunstreaker."   
  
"No, seriously. What could you be doing in your office at three in the morning?"   
  
" _ Goodnight _ , Sunstreaker."   
  
Prowl closed the door, leaving an amused Sunstreaker to head back to his quarters. Prowl was right. If he were to talk with his twin tomorrow, he'd need the rest.   
  
And as he walked back to his quarters, he realized something. It might just be the sleep deprivation finally catching up, but he could have sworn, right as he had closed the door on him, that Prowl had been  _ smiling _ at him.

    ‘ _ Nah,’  _ he concluded as he punched in the code for his door, ‘ _ definitely the sleep deprivation’. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you sure about that, Sunstreaker?


	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are had, and decisions are made.
> 
> Not all of them smart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La-da-dee, I finished editing the old chapter three!  
> Will be done editing four by Friday/Saturday. Four is the last of the old chapters, so updates will be a looooot slower after that.

    He watched his golden twin from the monitor, tracking him throughout his day. He knew he should be watching the base perimeter and not his twin, but Sideswipe couldn't really bother to care at the moment. This was something more important than watching a bunch of rocks in the middle of the desert. This was a family matter. This was an elder-twin responsibility! His brother needed his help.   
  
Except he had no idea how to help him.   
  
His twin had withdrawn into himself. It was a perfectly understandable response, given the circumstances, but he wasn't showing signs of coming back out anytime soon. If anything, he was retreating even further within. Away from everyone, including Sideswipe.   
  
And that scared him.   
  
"Is everything alright, Sideswipe?"   
  
Jumping in his chair, Sideswipe spun around to come face to face with Prowl.   
  
"Ah, no sir. Just a little tired is all."   
  
To be perfectly honest, Sideswipe really wasn't sure what to think of the monochrome officer. Yeah, sure he disciplined him all the time for pranks, but he was always fair about it, so he guessed he was alright. But he wasn't entirely sure if he felt comfortable with the sudden interest Prowl had taken in Sunstreaker. When Prowl had first started walking around with Sunstreaker at night- which he discovered from hacking Red Alert's cameras to see what his twin did during his post-nightmare walks   he had a duty don’t  _ judge him Red! _ \- he had thought that the Praxian was just doing his job and making sure that Sunstreaker wasn't causing any trouble and checking his recovery to see if he was ready for duty yet.   
  
What he hadn't expected was for Prowl to stay up with Sunstreaker every single night for the past four months and do nothing related to work. The conversation was never about work, assignments or even happenings around the Ark, and seldom was it about what had happened to the golden twin a few months prior. In fact, they had barely talked at all. Prowl was just . . . sorta . . .  _ there _ .   
  
Speaking of . . .   
  
Prowl glanced at the monitor screen, still trained on Sunstreaker. Looking over his shoulder, Prowl addressed his fellow officer on duty.   
  
"Ironhide, can you manage by yourself? There's something that I need to attend to."   
  
"Eh?"   
  
Looking at Prowl, then at the red front-liner and the image on the monitor behind them, the old weapons specialist answered the tactician with a knowing smile.   
  
"Aw, go 'head. 's a quite day. We can manage."   
  
Nodding, the SIC turned around and headed for the door.   
  
"Come along Sideswipe."   
  
"Um . . . okaaaaay."   
  
Getting up from his monitor, the red twin followed the tactician out the door. Only after walking to the more damaged part of the Ark - one of the few places Red Alert didn't have security cameras or listening devices in, Sideswipe noted - and checking that no one was there did Prowl turn around and address the red warrior.   
  
"Has he talked to you about it yet?"   
  
Sighing, Sideswipe shook his head forlornly. He didn’t need to ask who he was talking about.   
  
"No, he hasn't said anything to me yet."   
  
Pacing the length of the small room - a habit both twins shared when aggravated - The elder twin continued.   
  
"I've tried. Really, I have. But he's practically shut everyone out, including me. And then when anyone tries to bring it up, he usually just growls and leaves the room. Pit, he practically never leaves our room anymore! A few times during the day then the nightly walks with you after waking up from a nightmare and that's it!"   
  
He stopped his pacing and turned to give Prime's SIC a pointed look.   
  
"What's up with those anyway?"   
  
Staring right back with those intense, icy optics - gaaah, could he at least not stare so intensely? It's creepy - and tilted his helm to the side.   
  
"Pardon?"   
  
"Those walks. Practically every night for the past four months you've been staying up all hours of the night with my bro instead of recharging. If it were the Prime, Jazz, the Hatchet, or one of the other officers, I wouldn't be surprised. Pit, I'd almost expect it. But you?"   
  
Taking a step towards the Praxian, Sideswipe leaned down to glare in Prowl's face.   
  
"Never you. You don't fraternize with the rest of the crew, period. And you ain't exactly the caring type."   
  
If it had been any other time, under any other circumstance, Sideswipe wouldn't have taken it this far, wouldn’t be mouthing off so aggressively to a superior like he was. But he was worried, he was stressed, and someone might be trying to use his brother for their own personal goals. He needed answers, and he wasn't in the mood to dance around the subject.   
  
"What game are you playing, and what do you want from my twin?"   
  
Sideswipe realized that he had pushed too far when Prowl's door wings flared behind him and arctic blue optics paled in an emotion that the red front-liner couldn't identify. Taking a step back, Sideswipe remembered just  _ who _ the shorter Autobot was, and how intimidating he could be.

 

You don’t stay second in command of an entire faction for millennia without one hell of a backstrut.   
  
"I'm not playing any sort of game, Sideswipe. I'm trying to help him. And now I'm trying to help  _ you _ help  _ him _ . He's hurting, Sideswipe, and he doesn't know how to ask for help. He needs support from others, but yours most of all."   
  
Sighing, the tension in Sideswipe's frame melted away, the front-liner's downcast optics and sagging posture conveying his frustration and ever-mounting worry. Looking back up at the Head of Tactical, the elder twin studied his fellow Autobot.   
  
Prowl stood to his full height with his door wings tilted up and flared. And while Sideswipe was still taller by a whole head-and-shoulders, the stance sent a message of strength and authority that Sideswipe was all too familiar with. His arctic-toned optics were slightly narrowed and his mouth set in a firm line, conveying his seriousness. And in a rare moment that Sideswipe knew was more for his sake than anything, Prowl's EMP field flared from it's usually restrained area a few inches around Prowl's armor to several feet, encompassing the red Front-liner in a feeling of determination and - amazingly- genuine concern. Prowl was absolutely serious about wanting to help the golden twin.   
  
Sighing in submission, the red twin looked the monochrome Praxian in the optics.   
  
"Alright. What do you need me to do."   
  
With what could of been mistaken as a brief blink-and-you-miss-it smile - wait, did he see that right? He couldn’t have seen that right- the tactician relaxed his door wings marginally, but still kept them stiff and mounted high on his back.   
  
"I think that I've finally convinced him to at least start talking about the nightmare's and memory fluxes that he's been enduring for the past several months."   
  
"But . . ."   
  
" . . . but he fears that if he shared them with anyone, including you, he would be seen as weak for not being able to handle the trauma and move on on his own."   
  
Pursing his lip plating together in thought, Sideswipe looked at the SiC warily. He really wasn't comfortable with the sudden display of emotion from the usually drone-like mech.   
  
"So how exactly do we help him open up without makin' him see himself as weak?"   
  
As if sensing Sideswipe's discomfort - which he probably did, creepy little fragger - Prowl restrained his field and lowered his door wings to their normal broad yet rigid display across his back before continuing.   
  
"As I said before, I believe that I have made him more open to talking about the nightmare's and memory fluxes, at least to you. But if and when he chooses to open up to you, you can not push him. His confidence in himself is still far too low. You must let him control the situation."   
  
Looking into those arctic blue optics one more time, Sideswipe submitted.   
  
"Okay."   
  
-0-0-0-0-   
  
Feigning recharge, Sideswipe waited until Sunstreaker returned to their quarters for the night. Sideswipe wanted to sigh in aggravation when Sunstreaker only stood there staring at him for a few minutes before going to his own berth to recharge but, keeping Prow's advice in mind, held it in.   
  
_ 'Let him control the situation.' _   
  
Figuring that Sunstreaker still wasn't ready to talk, Sideswipe initiated his own recharge cycle. Just as he was on the edge of unconsciousness, he heard the familiar and dreaded sound of his brother struggling against an invisible foe.   
  
Sunstreaker was having another nightmare.   
  
Resisting the urge to go awaken his brother and embrace him, Sideswipe waited for Sunstreaker to come out of the nightmare on his own, still repeating Prowl's advice like a mantra.   
  
_ 'Let him control the situation.' _   
  
Finally, after what felt like centuries, the golden twin onlined his optics and turned to look at Sideswipe's (not) sleeping form.   
  
A minute or two passed by without a sound, neither twin moving. Sideswipe held his intake, silently pleading with Primus above for Sunstreaker to say something. So lost in his silent prayers to the deity he had nearly lost all faith in during the war, that he almost missed the quiet voice from behind him.   
  
"Sideswipe, you up?"   
  
And Sideswipe thanked Primus.   
  
-0-0-0-0-   
  
_ No _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ pLEase nO _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ MaKE It stoP _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ StoP CUTTing me _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ PLeasE Oh PrimUs STOP _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ It HuRTS Oh PRImuS MAkE TheM SToP _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ StoP CUttIng _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ STOp _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ QuiT CUTtinG mY NEcK _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ WhY CaNT I FEEl AnyTHING _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ Oh DeaR PRImuS _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ SOmeone FINd Me _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ SideSWIpe WhERe ArE YoU _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ StopSToPstOPSTOPstopStOp _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ GIvE Me bACK mY bODY _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ oHPrimusMakETHemSTOP _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ ItBUrnSITBurNsitbUrnsITBURNS _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ STopSTOPstopStOp Oh PRIMus MAkE iT SToP _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ SiDeswIPE PLEasE _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ WhY CAnT I SENSe YoU _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ WHerE Is MY TwiN _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ wHy isnT He HErE _ _   
_ _   
_ __ _ MakE IT SToP _

_     nonsOUndNosounDnOSOUNDNOSOUNDNOSOUND _

_     SOMEONEKILLME _

_     WHEREISTHESOUND _

_     KILLME _ **_PLEASE_ **

     " **_STOP_**!"

    Jerking awake from a nightmare for the umpteenth time in a row, Sunstreaker onlined his optics. Recharge clearing from his mind, the golden twin thought back to his earlier conversation with the Prime's tactician.  
  
 _'Talk to him about the nightmares. Tell him what they're about, then work back to the source.'_  
  
Now that he had awakened after having another (horrifyingly vivid) nightmare and was looking at his (pretend) recharging twin across the room, he suddenly wasn't so sure he could bring himself to talk to Sideswipe about the nightmare. Biting his lip in thought, he weighed his choices.  
  
Talking about it could help him start coming to terms with what had happened and begin the healing, at least if he were to believe what Prowl had been telling him. And maybe convince a certain Praxian that he can return to duty.(Stupid Prowl)  
  
But . . .at the same time, what if he shows too much?  
  
What if the walls, all the walls, finally start coming down, and he completely breaks down in front of Sideswipe both mentally and emotionally? And with the sparkbond still numb and fragile _(so very silent),_ his control had already wane thin.  
  
But hadn't they already seen each other at their worst? When they were sold and traded from one bot to another as younglings, when they didn't have any say over what was done to their frames? Hadn't they already been at their lowest when they'd held each other and cried at night when their current master was done with them, energon still bleeding down the inside of their thighs? Or when they were sold to a Ring Master and forced to kill as gladiators as their minds and sparks grew cold. How much farther could they fall?  
  
They'd seen the worst of each other, so why would now be different?  
  
Perhaps . . . it really wasn't as different.  
  
And perhaps the bond will finally re-open.  
  
Steeling himself for the conversation about to unfold, Sunstreaker crossed the the point of no return.  
  
"Sideswipe? You up?"  
  
Not even a second later, the red twin had flung himself across the room and in front of Sunstreaker.  
  
-0-0-0-0-  
  
Both were so shocked by the sudden movement that neither of them were quiet able to speak. Coming out of his stupor first, the red twin grinned awkwardly in an attempt to make his brother feel more at ease.  
  
"You, ah, uh, you needed something?" _'Idiot, Idiot ,IDIOT!'_  
  
Shifting awkwardly to the right so his brother could have a place to sit, Sunstreaker lowered his gaze and continued in a low whisper.  
  
"I . . . I had a nightmare."  
  
Getting over his awkwardness and letting his brotherly instincts take over, he sat down next to his twin.  
  
"Wanna talk about it?"  
  
Clenching his servos, Sunstreaker tried to swallow the tightness forming in the back of his throat.  
  
"I need to."  
  
Nodding, the elder twin placed his servo atop his brothers.  
  
"Alright, I'm listening."  
  
Grabbing the offered servo, the younger twin continued.  
  
"This - this isn't the first one. I've been having them ever since you guys brought me back from that - that _hell_. I've had them practically every night since Ratch released me from MedBay. And it's always the same thing."  
  
Recalling the gruesome images of his nightmare, Sunstreaker started shaking.  
  
"I'm back there, Sides. I'm b-back on that concrete floor, getting cut open again. I'm screaming and _bleeding_ and _burning_ and . . ."  
  
Sunstreaker was now shaking so hard that his outermost layer of armor was rattling, but still he forced himself to talk.  
  
"I can hear it all. The saws, the chains rattling as I fight back, the scientists talking about me like-like a bug under a microscope as they cut open my chest and probe my spark chamber with scalpels. And the entire time . . ."  
  
At this point Sunstreaker curled in on himself, fighting back the optic fluid that threatened to spill down his face plates. Sideswipe, spark aching for his brother, pulled him into his lap, holding him close.  
  
" . . . a-and the worst part? The entire time I'm trying to feel you through the sparkbond and you're not there. I couldn't sense you at all."  
  
Pressing his forhelm into Sideswipe's chest plates, he continued in a small, pained voice.  
  
"I still can't."  
  
Well . . . that was new.  
  
And terrifying. Sunstreaker was a lot worse off than he thought.  
  
"Ol' Hatchet said that the humans messed with your spark chamber,"

    ' _Ooh, bad move, Sideswipe. Don't be stupid about this **,** he's already upset."_   
  
" . . . buuut he said that the bond would restore itself once your spark was properly healed, it would just take a little bit."   
  
Sitting there in their room, holding his still-trembling brother, Sideswipe got a brilliant (read: stupid) idea.   
  
"Sunny, what if we drop  _ all _ the barriers?"   
  
Sunstreaker's head shot up, looking at his brother with incredulity.   
  
"Si, I think that might just be the dumbest thing you've said in months."   
  
"I'm serious!"   
  
"So am I! You know how dangerous that could be! We could loose our individuality completely! We’d be a spark trapped in two separate bodies!"

 

“Aren’t we already?”

 

_ Smack _   
  
"Okay, I’ll admit, I deserved that.”Rubbing the back of his helm, the ruby frontliner continued. “That's why we’ll only do it for a minute. Think about it, Sunny. It'll strengthen the bond  _ and _ let me see exactly what the problem is!"   
  
Sunstreaker leaned back, eyeing his brother as he weighed the options.   
  
Completely dropping the instinctive guards around a sparkbond was dangerous for twins. They could accidentally fuse their minds permanently together, either smothering one personality into nonexistence or destroying both if they weren't careful.   
  
But at the same time, it could help Sideswipe -and himself - figure out why he couldn't move past this. Yes it was risky, but so was keeping everything bottled up until it blew. His temper was already bad pre- headmaster fiasco, could he risk going off in an already stressed state and possibly causing permanent damage to a fellow Autobot bot or worse?

_     (And what could already be worse than The Silence?) _

    Looking back at his brother's honest and hopeful face, he knew that his choice had already been made.   
  
"Okay. Let's try it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boys, you are doing A Dumb.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Twins deal with the fallout of some poor life choices.  
> At least Sideswipe does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines day! Here's crying robots! :D
> 
> Fun fact, I'm uplaoding this fom a Dairy Queen.

_Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, can you hear me?_

_MedBay we have a possibly critical situation do you copy?_

 

    Dark

 

    Everything's dark.

 

    Where . . . ?

 

_Sides!!_

 

    Who?

 

 

_Sunstreaker!! Fraggitall someone get the chords!!_

 

    Sunstreaker . . . was that his name?

 

    No, that's not quite right . . .

 

_The hell were they thinking?! What have you been filling their fool processors with Prowl?_

 

    Prowl . . . was that it ? Sunstreaker and Prowl?

 

    No . . . other name, what was is?

 

_I think that they're coming back up, get the crash cart. I don't wanna take anymore chances._

 

_C’mon Sideswipe, you're almost there._

 

    Wait, that last name made sense. That was him, his name was . . .

-0-0-0-0-

    “Sideswipe!”

    With a gasp Sideswipe came to, nearly jack-knifing himself off the medical berth beneath him. Sitting up, he blinked slowly, blearily taking in the scene around him.

    Directly in front of him was a blob of red and white that looked suspiciously like Ratchet, giving him what he could only assume was one mean death glare. There was a larger blob of colors behind the irate medic, some hodgepodge of blue, red, white, and black. He couldn't really make out much of it, but it was probably more of the command staff. To his right was a golden smear, and with it the familiar feeling of home.

    Sunstreaker.

    Leaning to the right, his attempt to reach his twin was halted by a tug from his left. Looking over he saw a mass of what looked like wires leading from his chest and left arm into what in his steadily clearing vision looked like a life support machine.

    When did that happen?

    Feeling a warm servo press against his chest, he looked up to see Ratchet had moved to directly beside him, gently but firmly pressing him back down onto the medical berth. Ratchet looked at him hard for a moment before closing his optics and letting out a weary sigh through his vents.

    “You two gave us a bit of a scare, y’know. When we found the two of you, you were practically fused at the spark chamber.” Ratchet sighed and leaned his head back, rubbing at the apex of his chevron as if trying to stave off a processor ache (probably was, given prior experience). “Split-spark twins merging without any medical personnel on standby, not very smart. So . . .” he looked back down, pinning Sideswipe with a glare “mind telling me _why_ you two thought that this was something you needed to do?”

    Sideswipe looked down, hunching his shoulders defensively. “Thought it’d help.”

    Ratchet frowned. “Help with what, exactly?”

    Still hunched, Sideswipe started worrying his servos.

     “With the bond. He-” he paused, looking at his twin on the adjacent berth. “ -he still can’t feel me.”

    Ratchet’s expression softened, cerulean optics dimming before he put an arm around the ruby twin’s shoulders, pulling him close. Sideswipe said nothing at first, curling into the warmth of the medics chassis. “We thought that if we dropped all the barriers in the bond, that he could maybe feel me better that way, feel that I was _there_ and, and that maybe I could feel his emotions better too, and that maybe I could maybe understand what happened to him better and, and-!”

    Oh Primus he was gonna crying. He didn't wanna cry. He _really_ didn't wanna cry. He really _really_ didn't wanna cry I front of Ratchet, or the blob of color that Ratchet was looking at over his shoulder (he'd forgot about them) . He didn’t wanna cry, he didn't wanna-

 -0-0-0-0-0-

     Sideswipe was crying.

     Fraggitall this wasn't how Ratchet was expecting this to go at all.

     He looked over his shoulder to meet optics with the mechs behind him, urging them to keep quiet.

     At the head of the group, as he always was, was Prime. Optimus looked back at him with worry, arms crossed as he tried to think of a way to help the young mechs that he cared for as if they were his own. To Prime’s right was Ironhide, the officer that had noticed that Sideswipe hadn't shown up for artillery maintenance and called it in to Prime, and helped carry the twins to the MedBay after they'd been found. And standing just behind them was the mech that had actually found the twins and hailed the MedBay.

     Prowl.

     Prowl, who had apparently volunteered to go check up on the twins when Ironhide called Prime about Sideswipe, and was the one that had called him when he realized the twins needed help.

     He’d also been talking to one particular twin for awhile, if the rumor mill was to be believed.

     Ratchet still didn't know how to feel about that.

     Prowl wasn't sparkless, contrary to popular belief -Ratchet thought he could stand to learn some better people skills, but he digressed-, but he didn't interact with the rank very often when compared to the rest of the command staff, and with good reason. Prime was their leader, someone who would give them direction, and the closest thing most of the bots had ever had to a creator figure. Ironhide taught most of the Autobots how to fight and how to defend, and was always willing to lend advice and an open audio receptor. Jazz, while in charge of SpecOps and TIC, was a friend and brother to all, always ready to lighten the mood with a well-timed joke or to reassure with a warm smile. Ratchet himself was the CMO, the healer, one of the people that put as many people back together as they could when things went bad.

     Prowl was Second only to Prime, the lead strategist, the Head of the Tactical Department. Prowl was the voice directing the battle, making battle plans, sending them out to fight.

     Prowl was the one that sent them out to die.

     Ratchet sighed - he seemed to be doing a lot of that today- and reeled in his train of thought. That wasn't fair to think of Prowl, and he knew it. Prowl did his damnedest to keep everyone alive on the battlefield and keep casualties and injuries to a minimum. But even with all of Prowl’s natural intelligence, cutting edge battle computer, and TacNet, things could still go to hell in a handbasket in the blink of an optic. And with Prowl’s voice being the one everyone heard directing troops, it made him a real easy target to blame when things went south by Rank and Command alike.

     Vector Sigma knows how many times he’d let loose on Prowl in the heat of the moment post-battle.

     But figuring out why Prowl had suddenly decided to become sociable with someone other than Jazz and Prime would have to wait. Ratchet still had an armful of distraught Frontliner to soothe. Wrapping his other arm around Sideswipe, the old medic held him close, EM field calm as he whispered reassurances to the mech sobbing into the glass panel of his chest.

     “Sideswipe, hey. Hey, hey, look at me -shhh- you're okay, you're okay. Sides -shhhhh-shh-shh-shhhhhh- it’s okay. You're okay now. We're gonna figure this out, yeah? We're gonna help you, help Sunny too. But I need you to calm down now, okay?”

     With a wet-sounding gasp, Sideswipe forced himself to calm down. Crying wouldn't help him, and it wouldn't help his brother. Looking up from Ratchet’s chest, no longer sobbing but with tears still trailing down his cheeks - and _oh,_ was it ever easy to forget how comparatively _young_ the twins were- Sideswipe nodded weakly.

     “Okay”. His voice was still quiet, but gaining strength. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

     Leaning back, Ratchet thought back on what Sideswipe had said before his meltdown. “Pick up where you left off, for starters. What did you mean by Sunstreaker can't feel you through the bond?”

 -0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

     Sideswipe let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing a forearm across his faceplates before looking back over at his brother, still unconscious on the medberth. He didn't want to involve other people in this mess, but making sure Sunny actually got the help he needed came before their gladiatorial pride.

     “He . . . he can't feel the bond. I know you said that it would probably fix itself with time, but it’s really disorienting to not feel it, for both of us.” Sideswipe paused, thinking over his words before continuing. “He can't always tell where he is when he wakes up, and since he can't actually sense me he sometimes thinks he’s back in the human’s lab and panics. And everything I'm getting from him is _super_ muted, so I don't  even realize that he's upset until I actually physically SEE that he's upset. So . . .” he looked down, twiddling his digits, “So we thought that maybe if we dropped all of our constructed barriers and merged it would . . . fix . . .itself?” Sideswipe trailed off, refusing to look Ratchet in the optic. The more he thought back on the situation, the stupider it sounded. Sunny was right, this WAS his dumbest idea to date.

     “And how does the bond feel now?” Looking back up, Sideswipe locked optics with the old CMO. While there was a tired weariness -probably his fault, to be honest - it was not the judgement he was expecting. “Can you feel him now, Sides?”

     That . . . probably wouldn't be a bad thing to check now.

     Closing his optics, Sideswipe's focus turned inward. Tuning out the outside world, he focused on his spark, picking out glowing threads of _lovelighthome_ and following them to the other half of his soul where it lay a few feet to his right, housed safely in his brothers chest, and _felt._

     His spark was warm and welcoming, disoriented and a little confused and drowsy but oh so very _there_ and _alive_ and _responsive_ and _oh!_ He felt like crying again but _Sunny was THERE_ and-!

     “Sideswipe? Are things well?”

     His optics snapped open to see Prowl -when did _he_ get here?- looking at him over Ratchet’s shoulder and it was only then did he realise he was crying again. The front-liner sniffed and rubbed a palm against his cheek, before beaming up at the SIC.

     “He's _there,_ Prowl. I can _feel_ him, loud and clear.” He ducked his helm, just a bit, before his grin turned bashful. “I guess that this isn't quite what you meant when you said to sit down and talk, was it?”

     Raising a single optical ridge, Prowl gave what could _almost_ be considered a small smile - if you squinted.

     “Not quite, no. As fortunate as it is that this at least somewhat reopened the bond, I do wish that the two of you had not felt that this was necessary.” That sorta-barely smile disappeared, and the tactician frowned. Prowl glanced to the right, giving Sunstreaker’s prone form a quick once-over before looking back at Sideswipe’s own life support systems. “You were very nearly lost.”

     Rubbing the back of his helm, Sideswipe grinned sheepishly. “Is this the part where you reem us out for being irresponsible? ‘Cause I'm sorta getting that ‘Prowl’s gonna metaphorically hand us our afts through words’ vibe right now”.

     The right side of Prowl’s mouth quirked upward - and _oh_ that was unmistakably an honest to Primus _smirk_ on his face, _Holy_ **_Slag_ ** he didn't even know Prowl could _make_ that face!- and something that looked an awful lot like mischief - Mischief! Sunny was never going to believe him!-  danced behind Prowl’s optics.

     “Now why would I do that? When for the next three weeks allotted for your recovery, Ratchet will be more than willing to do it in my stead?”

     Sideswipe’s mouth fell open, gobsmacked. A snicker that sounded suspiciously like Ironhide came from behind Prowl and Ratchet where the color-blob had been earlier.

     “Aw _Hell_ , Prowl. Ain't no need to be that cruel!” The old weapons specialist cackled, walking up from the color-blob zone to playfully shove Prowl in the shoulder, before turning his gaze to the berth-ridden frontliner.

     “So I don't think that I have ta add on to how incredibly _stupid_ this little stunt of yers was, but I am glad that it's worked out for you boys. _However . . ._ ” he paused, pulling a datapad from his subspace before giving it to Sideswipe, “ I do expect ya to keep up with at least the paper part of weapons upkeep.”

     Sideswipe glanced through the datapad, looking over the weapons maintenance check that he'd missed that morning as well as the maintenance schedule for the next several weeks. “That's. . . actually pretty fair.”

     Nodding, Ironhide looked back as the last of the color-blob stepped forward-

     To reveal none other than Primus-damned Optimus Prime, because _of course_ the Prime saw him cry like a newspark, of _fragging_ course, goodbye dignity, you were kinda there.

     Cyan locked with orchid as the Prime came to stand next to his medic, optics tired but warm and ever-kind. Clasping large blue servos behind his back, the alloy around his optics crinkled in a hidden smile as he spoke.

     “I believe that my staff have more than handled your rebuke and punishment, as well as your brothers’ when he awakens, so I will offer only this” cyan became somber, but still fatherly and kind “If you - either of you - ever need an open audial, my door is always open.” Mindful of the plethora of wires still connected to his forearm, Prime placed a warm servo on his upper arm and gave a gentle squeeze. “The two of you gave us quite a scare this day, I would do what I can for the two of you to not feel such drastic measures were necessary.” Looking over and behind Ratchet to his SIC, the Prime added, almost as an afterthought, “And I am not the only one.” Turning back towards Sideswipe, he continued. “ You have allies here” - the smiling creases around his optics returned - “ and we would help you if we can”

     Fighting past the lump in his throat - he’s not this emotional, it’s a side effect of the merge, _clearly_ \- Sideswipe swallows and nods, not trusting his voice. Still smiling, Prime lets go of his arm, giving his shoulder a gentle pat as he moved away. “Now, I do believe that after this entire ordeal that some rest will do you some good, and with that thought in mind I will leave you in the capable hands of our medic and his staff. Now, Ratchet, was there anything else that you needed from Prowl, Ironhide and I before we leave these mechs in your care?”

     With a disgruntled snort, Ratchet moved back over to Sideswipe’s side to record his vital readings and to prepare a sedative. “To start showing up to your own appointments on time, maybe. But other than the usual nonsense I just need the three of you to sign off on the incident report. Now skatter, no sense in you twits loitering around my medbay while you’re still moving under your own power. Except you, Prowl. I need to go over something with you real quick. Now go you two, vamoose, skedaddle, _leave_.”

     With a good-natured chuckle, Optimus and Ironhide left the medbay, leaving only Ratchet, Prowl, and the twins in their wake. With his domain sufficiently cleared Ratchet turned his attention back to the ruby front-liner.

     “Alright. I’m going to give you a sedative now, just to keep you rested and in a single solitary spot while you’re healing. You’ll be out for the rest of the day and after that it’s corrective surgeries, observations, and recovery.” The old medic glowered at the elder twin. “I wasn’t kidding about you twits melting yourselves together, this was some next level dumbassery. If it wouldn’t exacerbate your injuries I’d smack you.”

     Sideswipe gave a sheepish grin as Ratchet administered the sedative. “Yeah, we earned a pretty solid wrench-smack, haven’t we?” Laying back down, Sideswipe blinked through the sluggishness of the sedatives - fast acting, damn, Ratch wasn’t fooling around - to get one last look-around in before he went under. “But admit it, you only smack us ‘cuz you love us.”

     Ratchet gave him a look flat enough for planes to take off of before responding. “Like a bad case of carriage rash. Go recharge Sideswipe. You both need it.”

     With a final chuckle, Sideswipe let himself succumb to the sedatives and went to sleep.

 -0-0-0-0-

    Warmth

 

    Safety

 

_I mean no harm, to either of them._

 

    Who . . .?

   

    _I know you wouldn’t do anything intentionally, but you’re not exactly the most emotionally savvy bot around._

 

Sides?

 

    _I am more than aware of my own shortcomings._

 

Sides was there, nearby.

 

    _Just as I am aware of the trauma of non consensual body modifications._

 

    Sideswipe was _here_.

 

    _Sweet Vector Sigma, I didn’t mean it like that. I know that you do, just …_

 

Home

 

    _Please be careful with this. Please._

 

Safe

 

    _I know_

 

He was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens now, boys?
> 
> And this is the end of the old chapters! I don't know what the schedule will be for new chapters, but I'll get 'em out as soon as I can!

**Author's Note:**

> And that's the revised chapter 1! I'd really appreciate feedback on this just because it has been so long since I've written fic and actualy worked up the nerve to post it.
> 
> Have a wonderfull day everyone!


End file.
